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M ♦ X— I~am burning my— my poetry ’ •' 





Miss Appolina’s 
Choice 


BY 

ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND 

h 


With Illustrations by 
HENRIETTA S. ADAMS 



PHILADELPHIA 

Henry Altemus Company 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two CORiM AKSiVM 

SEP 25 1906 

^ ©Myntfut Cfltiy , 

CLASS A XXc.. No. 



By The Same Author 


THE MIDDLETON BOWL 

FIFTY CENTS 


Copyright, 1906, by Henry Altemus 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I 

Page 

Introducing a Poetess . ^3 

CHAPTER II 

The Poetess is Tempted 29 

CHAPTER III 

Cousin Appolina Briggs 43 

CHAPTER IV 

A Dame of High Degree . 63 

CHAPTER V 

The Impertinence of it 81 

CHAPTER VI 

The Silence ot Peggy 99 

[vii] 


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ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

“‘I — I — am burning my poetry ’ ” . . . Frontispiece 

“Joan gazed at her sister with pride and admiration” . 15 

“ ‘ Oh, Milly ! please, please tell me 19 

“ ‘ What ’s the matter ? What 's up ? ’ ” 23 

“ Pegg^ rocked to and fro ” 35 

“ Millicent had been reeling off verses by the yard ” . 47 

“ Peggy managed to be near the door ” 49 

“ ‘ Well, do be careful, girls ’ ” 55 

“ ‘ Look out Mill,’ she said in a low tone ” 59 

“ The first thing that met her gaze ” 69 

“ She tossed the poems hither and thither ” .... 73 

“ ‘ Well, girls, what have we here ? ’ ” 75 

“ Peggy had lain awake half the night ” 83 

“ Overflowing with the ill-fated booklets ” 87 

“ From her cousin, Appolina Briggs ” 89 

“ ‘ I did it to frighten Milly ’ ” 105 

“ Waved them a sad farewell ” 109 


[ix] 





INTRODUCING A POETESS 




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1 


.1 '»V, 


Miss Appolina’s Choice 


CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCING A POETESS 

T he house was one of a long row of 
brownstone houses which line many 
of New York's streets, and in an 
upper room of one of them two girls 
were sitting one fine afternoon in early April. 
“The girls" were Millicent and Joanna Reid. 
Millicent was nearly seventeen, and with her 
cousin Peggy, who lived across the street, 
studied with a governess and various masters ; 
but Joanna, or Joan, as she was frequently 
called, went to school. She had just burst into 
the room, and flinging a pile of school books 
upon the table with a resounding crash, had 
seated herself in an easy chair and was pulling 
off her gloves. 

“It is to be on the 30th of April, and we are 
[ 13 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


all asked to send just as much as we can, and 
Mrs. Pearson said anything would do,” said 
she. 

“Oh, don’t, Joan !” exclaimed Millicent, who 
had a pencil in her hand and had hastily thrust 
a morocco-bound book under the sofa pillow 
when her sister entered. “You do startle me 
so! What is to be on the 30th of April?” 

“The fair, of course. Now don’t pretend you 
don’t know anything about it, when the Pear- 
sons have talked of nothing else for weeks.” 

“I have had other things to think of,” re- 
turned Millicent, with dignity. 

“For one thing, I am wondering which of us 
three Cousin Appolina will take with her to 
England. If she would only choose me ! And 
then — oh, there are other things!” And she 
nibbled the end of her pencil. 

Millicent was Joanna’s only sister, and she 
had beautiful golden hair, large blue eyes, and 
poetic tendencies. Joan was very sure that 
the morocco-bound book, of which she had 

[ 14 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 



caught a glimpse more than once when it was 
thrust away just as it had been this afternoon, 
contained poems — actual poems. 

Joan gazed at her sister, as she lay back 
[ 15 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


among the cushions, with pride and admiration 
not wholly unmixed with envy. She would 
so love to write poetry herself, but next best 
to that was having a sister who could do it. 
She only wished that Milly would allow her 
to see something that she had written. She 
could then assure her cousin, Peggy Reid, with 
absolute knowledge of the fact that her sister 
was a poetess. Now she could only darkly 
hint upon the subject, and it was not alto- 
gether satisfactory, for she felt confident that 
Peggy would not believe her. 

But at present the fair was the all-absorbing 
topic, and Joanna returned to the charge. 

“We shall have to send something, Milly, 
for Mrs. Pearson said she depended upon us, 
and it is such a good object she said she knew 
we would help her all we could. It is to fur- 
nish the new chapel, you know; to get a lec- 
lacl-luck —something for them to read the 
Bible on. What is it, Milly?” 

“A ‘lectern,’ I suppose you mean.” 

[ 16 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“Yes, that ’s it — lectern;’ and a big Bible 
to put on it, and lots of Prayer-books and 
Hymnals to stick around the church, and some 
vases for flowers, and a brass cross, and foot- 
stools, and lots of other things they need. Mrs. 
Pearson said we must try to send as many 
fancy articles as we could to the fair, and try 
to sell some tickets.” 

“I have no time to make anything, and be- 
sides, I don’t do any fancy work,” said Milli- 
cent ; “and if you don’t mind, Joan, I wish you 
would go, I am very busy just now.” 

“You don’t look very busy. What are you 
doing? Nothing but biting a pencil. I wish 
you would tell me what you were doing when 
I came in. Mill.” 

“If you only would not call me ‘Mill’ or 
‘Milly !’ I simply detest it. As long as I have 
a good name, I do wish I could be called by it.” 

“I promise and vow I will always call you 
Millicent, full length, if you will only tell me 
what you were doing when I came in.” 

2 — Miss Appolina’s Choice [ ^ ^ ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“I can’t, Joan. Do go away. It was — 
nothing of any importance.” 

“Oh, Milly — I mean Millicent — please, 
please tell me! I do so want to know, and I 
am only your own little sister, who never did 
you any harm, and who wants to know so 
much. Won’t you tell me?” 

Joanna had slipped down on the floor at her 
sister’s side. One arm she threw across Mil- 
licent, the other went under the sofa pillow. 
In a moment the morocco blank-book was in 
her hand. She clutched it tightly. If she only 
dared draw it out, run away with it, and read 
it! Peggy would have done it without any 
hesitation whatever, but then Joanna was not 
Peggy. 

Millicent looked at her pensively. Sympa- 
thy is pleasant, particularly to a poet, and she 
felt sure that Joan, if any one, would appre- 
ciate some of the beauties of her verse. 

“I really believe I will,” she said at length; 
“only, Joan, I don’t want Peggy to know any- 
[ 18 ] 



“ ‘ Oh, Milly f please, please tell me ’ ” 





MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


thing about it. Peggy does laugh so at every- 
thing. Not that there is anything to laugh at 
in these little poems of mine — for they are real 
poems, Joan. Do you know I actually write 
poetry? Did you ever have any idea of it?” 

‘‘I am not a bit surprised,” declared Joan. 
“In fact, I was almost sure of it. I am so glad 
you are going to let me see them. They are in 
this book, are n’t they? Oh, Milly — I mean 
Millicent — think of your being a poetess ! Do 
hurry up. Shall I read them myself, or will 
you read them to me?” 

“I will read them aloud. I can do it with 
more expression, probably, for I know just 
where to put the emphasis. I often think that 
if I could only take them myself to the editors 
of the magazines and read the poems to them, 
they would be more apt to accept them.” 

“Of course they would. But do you mean to 
say, Millicent, that you have really sent any- 
thing to the magazines ?” 

“Certainly I have. I want recognition, but 
somehow they don’t seem to suit.” 

[ 21 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“How hateful!’’ exclaimed Joan, with a sym- 
pathy that warmed her sister’s heart. “But do 
hurry up and read them. I am dying to hear 
what you have written.” 

Millicent opened the book and turned over 
the pages. She could not quite decide which 
she should choose as her first selection. Be- 
fore she had made it, however, there was a tap 
at the door, and then, without waiting for a 
reply, a tall dark-haired girl of sixteen came 
into the room. 

Again the morocco-bound book went under 
the sofa pillow, and Joanna could not suppress 
an exclamation of disappointment. 

“What ’s the matter? What ’s up?” said 
their cousin Peggy, her merry brown eyes 
glancing quickly from one to the other. “Se- 
crets? Now that is not a bit fair, to have se- 
crets from me. I ’ve got oceans of things to 
talk about; but, first of all, I met the postman 
just as I was coming in, and he gave me this 
for you. Mill. This huge envelope, and ad- 
122 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 



dressed in your own handwriting. It is aw- 
fully mysterious, and I am just about wild with 
curiosity. You must tell me what it is.” 

[ 23 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


A blank look came over Millicent’s face, but 
she took the letter and said nothing. 

‘‘Oh, come now, are n’t you going to tell 
us?” continued Peggy. “I ’ll never tell.” 

“Do, Millicent !” urged Joanna. “If it ’s — if 
it has anything to do with what we were talk- 
ing about when Peggy came in you may as 
well tell. I want Peggy to know about it and 
I ’m sure she would like to hear them, too.” 

“Hear them ! What in the world is it ? Oh, 
I know! I know!” cried Peggy. “You have 
been writing and sending things to the maga- 
zines! Oh, Milly, do show me!” 

Millicent looked at her long and doubtfully. 
“Will you never, never tell?” she asked at 
last. 

“Never, on my oath!” 

“I believe I will tell you, then, for I do think 
it is the meanest thing in those editors, and I 
just want to see what they have said this time, 
and whether they have answered my note or 
not.” 

She opened the envelope and drew forth sev- 

[ 24 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


eral papers, one of which appeared to be a 
printed one. 

‘'No, they have n’t. They have just sent me 
the same old slip they always do, thanking me 
ever so much for sending the poems, and it 
may not be because they are not good that they 
are sending them back, but because they have 
so many things on hand. Oh, dear, I do think 
they might have answered it !” 

“What did you say in your note?” asked 
Peggy. 

“Oh, I told them that I thought these poems 
were perfectly suited to their magazines and 
really better than some that they published 
last month, and so they are. And I asked them 
to tell me of a good place to send them if they 
could n’t take them. I do think the man 
might have had the politeness to answer my 
note, instead of sending me this old printed 
thing.” 

“Well, do let us hear the poems,” put in 
Peggy, briskly. “I am wild to know what they 
are like.” 


[ 25 ] 






THE POETESS IS TEMPTED 




MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


CHAPTER II 

THE POETESS IS TEMPTED 

M ILLICENT again looked doubtfully 
at her laughter-loving cousin. But 
in a moment she took a more up- 
right position upon the sofa, and 
holding her pretty head a little to one side she 
remarked : 

“This is a little poem on something that is 
very familiar to us, but I like the idea of ideal- 
izing familiar things.'’ Then she paused. “Oh, 
I don’t believe I can read it, after all,” she said, 
in an embarrassed way ; “it is very hard to read 
your own productions.” 

“Then let me read it!” cried Peggy, at- 
tempting to seize the paper. 

“No, no ! I would rather do it myself than 
have you,” said Millicent; and presently she 
[ 29 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


coughed hesitatingly, and began. ‘‘It is about 
the mosquito, and is called ‘Lines to a Mos- 
quito 

“When day is done, and darkness comes shad- 
owing down the way. 

And night with her rustling winglets blots 
out the garish day. 

We hear the song of an insect singing its mu- 
sical lay. 

“Oh, insect with wings that flutter! Oh, in- 
sect on murder intent! 

Oh, creature, we ’d love thee dearly if thou 
wert not on bloodshed bent! 

And we ’d bear with thy visits gladly, we e’en 
would be content. 

“Then cease thy busy prattle, and cease thy 
dangerous stings. 

Learn, learn to be meek and lamblike like 
other less harmful things. 

Till we hail with joy thy coming, thy coming 
on peaceful wings !” 

Here the poem ended, and the reader paused 
for the applause which she felt to be her due. 

[ 30 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


Peggy had turned aside and was leaning her 
head upon her hand so that Millicent could not 
see her face. Joan was the first to speak. 

‘‘Millicent, how perfectly lovely! Did you 
really do it all yourself? You are the smartest^ 
thing I ever knew. Somehow it reminded me 
of something else.” 

“Longfellow, probably,” said Millicent. 

“ ‘When day is done, and darkness comes 
shadowing down the way,’ is suggestive of 
him.” 

“All except the ‘shadowing,’ ” said Peggy. 

“No; I made that word up,” returned Mil- 
licent, with complacency. “Poets are obliged 
to coin words sometimes. What do you think 
of the poem, Peggy?” 

“Wonderful!” replied her cousin, in a stifled 
voice. “How did you ever happen to think of 
asking a mosquito to be like a lamb?” 

She turned away again, and her shoulders 
shook convulsively. 

“Do read the other!” cried Joan, enthusias- 

[ 31 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


tically. ‘‘I don’t see how you ever make them 
rhyme so beautifully.” 

‘‘Oh, that is easy enough,” said Millicent, 
much pleased. “Whenever I don’t know just 
what to put in I look in my rhyming dictionary 
for a word.” 

“Rhyming dictionary!” repeated Peggy, at 
last uncovering a crimson face. “Do poets use 
rhyming dictionaries ?” 

“Of course. They are obliged to very often, 
and it saves so much time and thought, you 
know. Now this is a sonnet. It is my favorite 
form of verse. I suppose you both know that 
a sonnet must be just fourteen lines and no 
more?” 

“Oh, I know,” agreed Peggy amiably, “and 
there are other rules about it, too.” 

“Well, that one is the most important, about 
the fourteen lines. I don’t pay much atten- 
tion to the other rules. I think rules hamper 
you when you are composing.” 

“Oh!” said Peggy. 

[ 32 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


“This is called ‘A Sonnet to the Moth Mil- 
ler/ ” continued Millicent : 

“Oh, little creature, made so fair, so white. 
What seekest thou about my closet door? 
To see thee fills no soul with deep delight. 
Thy coming almost all men do deplore. 

So silent and so fatal is thy task. 

We haste to catch thee, bring the camphor 
forth. 

To kill thee quite stone-dead is all we ask. 
Thou little quiet woolen-loving moth! 

We crush thee, cast the atoms to the wind. 
Stamp underfoot, and tread thee with the 
heel. 

Oh, tell me! Dost thou really truly mind? 
Can little frail white creatures like thee 
feel? 

What are thy thoughts, and what emotions 
thine ? 

To know thy feelings, dear white moth, I 
pine!’’ 

When Millicent’s pathetic voice ceased there 
was silence in the room for a moment, and 

3 — Miss AppoUna’s Choice [^^1 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


then from the table upon which Peggy’s head 
was resting came peal after peal of laughter. 

‘‘Oh, do excuse me, Milly!” she cried, as 
soon as she could speak. “I did n’t mean to 
laugh, but it struck me as so awfully funny, 
don’t you know. ‘About your closet door,’ and 
bringing the — the — camphor forth; oh! oh! 
moth-balls are better, and you might have put 
in something about the smell! Ha, ha, ha!” 
and Peggy fairly shrieked with laughter as 
she held her side and rocked to and fro. “Oh, 
do excuse me ! But — but — I can’t h — help it ! 
It ’s — the funniest thing I ever heard! At 
least it is n’t really, but it just struck me so, 
and — and if you can tread a moth under your 
— your heel, you ’re terribly smart. Oh, Mill, 
Mill!” 

“There!” said Millicent, rising and thrust- 
ing her papers into a drawer in her desk, and 
turning the key with an angry snap. “I knew 
just how it would be. I believe you would 
laugh at my funeral.” 

“Oh, no, indeed I would n’t, Milly — not at 

[ 34 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 



your funeral. But really, you know, it just 
struck me I think the rhymes are perfectly 
splendid, don’t you, Joan?” 

[ 35 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


“Indeed I do!’’ cried Joanna; “and I don’t 
see what you found to laugh at. I think they 
are perfectly beautiful, Millicent. Are n’t you 
going to read some more?” 

“No, indeed, never!” 

“I wish you would write a poem about 
Cousin Appolina,” said Peggy. “Hateful 
thing! She might take at least one of us 
abroad with her, if not all three. She has such 
loads of money, and no one to spend it on but 
herself.” 

“Probably she will take one of us,” observed 
Joan. 

“It won’t be me, then,” said her cousin posi- 
tively but ungrammatically ; “she hates me like 
fury. It will be one of you. Well, it would n’t 
be much fun to dance attendance on Cousin 
Appolina if she should happen to have a 
cranky fit. Mill, I know you are mad, for you 
have n’t spoken a word since I laughed. Do 
forgive me and tell me, what are you going to 
send to the fair?” 


[ 36 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“I have nothing to send,” replied Millicent, 
rather shortly. 

“Send your poems! Brilliant idea!” ex- 
claimed the incorrigible Peggy. “Have them 
printed on separate slips of paper, and sign 
some queer name, and say a member of the 
congregation wrote them, and see how they 
take.” 

“I don’t care to have you make any more fun 
of me and my writings,” said Millicent, with 
great dignity. 

“No fun, honor bright! Only I wish you 
would put in one about Cousin Appolina 
Briggs. If you don’t, I believe I will. You 
could lend me your rhyming dictionary to do it 
with, and I believe I could write a poem as well 
as — anybody. But have n’t you got anything 
on hand that you don’t want, in the way of 
fancy work, that you might send?” 

“I have those worsted slippers Cousin Appo- 
lina gave me for Christmas. They are in the 
box, just as she sent them.” 

[ 37 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“The very thing! Who wants her old 
worsted slippers? And fairs are always full 
of such things. And you will have your poems 
printed and send them, won’t you, dear child ?” 

Her cousin did not see the gleam of mis- 
chief that came into Peggy’s eyes as she said 
this. Millicent was pondering the situation 
too deeply. Peggy had not dreamed until now 
that she would take the proposition seriously. 

“I believe I will,” said the poetess, after 
some minutes’ pause, interrupted only by the 
admiring Joanna, who urged her sister to act 
upon Peggy’s suggestion. “It would give me 
the recognition I want. They can be sold at 
five cents a copy, and if I see people buying 
them, I shall know that they are liked, and 
then some day I might have them published in 
a book. Thank you ever so much, Peggy, for 
thinking of it. I will sign them ‘Pearl Proctor,’ 
just as I do those that I send to the magazines, 
and no one will ever know who it is. I will 
have them typewritten on attractive paper, 
[38j 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


and I will send Cousin Appolina’s shoes. She 
won’t be home from Washington until after 
the fair, and she will never know. They had 
better be doing some good.” 

“She would n’t recognize them anyhow,” 
remarked Peggy; “she is so nearsighted that 
even that gold lorgnette would n’t discover 
her own stitches. Well, good-by, girls, I am 
going.” 

Unknown to her cousins, Peggy slipped 
away with the rhyming dictionary under her 
arm. She had discovered it on the table and 
the opportunity was too good to be wasted. 

She crossed the street to her own home and 
retired to her room, whence she did not 
emerge for an hour or more. At dinner that 
night her family, had they looked at her with 
attention, might have discovered an additional 
expression of mischief in her eyes and a sat- 
isfied look upon her face. But fortunately 
one’s family are not apt to notice. 

“If I thought there was the least chance of 

[ 39 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


Cousin Appolina’s choosing me to go abroad, 
I might not run the risk,’’ she said to herself ; 
“but she would n’t take me on any account. 
Besides, she ’ll never hear of this, and it will 
be such fun to paralyze Milly. Just fancy her 
taking me in earnest, and sending her poems to 
the fair! Oh, oh! What a dear old innocent 
she is! It is a shame to tease her, but I just 
can’t help it. Pearl Proctor! Pearl Proctor! 
what naughty deed is about to be perpetrated 
in thy name !” 


[ 40 ] 


COUSIN APPOLINA BRIGGS 



MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


CHAPTER III 

COUSIN APPOLINA BRIGGS 

M ISS APPOLINA BRIGGS was 
somewhat of a power in the Reid 
family. She was a cousin of the 
fathers of Millicent, Joanna and 
Peggy, their fathers being brothers, and for 
many years when they were boys she had made 
her home with their parents. She now, how- 
ever, had a house of her own. 

She was very wealthy, very aristocratic, and 
very eccentric. Kind-hearted and charitable, 
she preferred to do good in her own way only. 

A month or two ago Miss Briggs had in- 
formed her relatives that she intended to pass 
the summer in England, and that it was barely 
possible that she would ask one of her young 
cousins to accompany her. Which should be 
[ 43 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


the fortunate one she should not decide until a 
week before the date fixed for sailing. That 
would be time enough, she said, for no prep- 
arations would be necessary. All the girl’s 
wants could be supplied on the other side. 

This proposition sounded very attractive, 
for Cousin Appolina was generous even though 
she was so peculiar, and there was no doubt 
that in addition to having the pleasure of the 
trip a well-stocked wardrobe would fall to the 
share of the lucky recipient of her favor. 

As Peggy had said, there was not much 
probability that she would be the one honored. 
She had a habit of making all sorts of speeches 
in Miss Briggs’s presence which did not please 
the good lady at all. And yet no one knew. 
It would be just like Cousin Appolina’s unex- 
pectedness if she were to veer suddenly around 
and decree that Margaret, as she always called 
her, should be the one to go to England. 

Consequently suspense and excitement ran 
high in the Reid family, and in the intervals of 

[ 44 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


study, fair work, and poetry-making there was 
much discussion as to which of the three 
should be Miss Appolina’s choice. 

She herself had gone to Washington for a 
few weeks, and the family breathed more eas- 
ily for a time. When so much depended upon 
it the girls were greatly afraid of doing some- 
thing to offend their cousin, which might very 
easily happen, and in that case she would sail 
alone with her maid. 

In the meantime preparations for the fair 
continued, and at last the day arrived. Milli- 
cent, having convinced herself that this would 
be the best means of securing the recognition 
of her powers as a poetess that she wanted, 
the recognition which had hitherto been denied 
her by unfeeling editors, had been reeling off 
verses by the yard. 

Each poem had been printed in the form 
of a little fancy booklet, at considerable ex- 
pense to the author, it is true, but the girls had 
plenty of pocket money, and Millicent had 
[ 45 ] 


MISS APPOLINA’S CHOICE 


eased her conscience with the thought that her 
object was charity as well as recognition, and 
each copy that was sold would bring in 
twenty-five cents to the fair. She had raised 
the price since the poems came home — she had 
no idea that they would look so attractive, she 
said. They would be sure to sell. 

Peggy had helped her with a readiness that 
would have appeared suspicious if Millicent 
had not been too much absorbed in sentiment 
to notice it. She had accompanied her cousin 
to make arrangements for having the poems 
printed, and had inspected them on their re- 
turn, and now the morning upon which the 
fair was to open she offered to carry the box 
which contained them to an office in the neigh- 
borhood, and have them sent to Sherry’s, 
where the fair was to be held, by a district tele- 
graph boy. 

‘Tt is much better than ringing for a mes 
senger boy to come to the house,” she said, 
‘‘for then no one can find out in any way who 
[ 46 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


‘Pearl Proctor’ is. I shall be on hand when 
the box arrives so that I can hear what people 



“ Millicetit had been reeling off verses by the yard ” 

say, but you had better not come until after- 
wards, Mill, for your face would be sure to 
give it away.’’ 


[ 47 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


The fancy articles, including Miss Briggs’s 
slippers, had already been sent. 

Joanna went to school, longing for the 
morning to pass that she might get to the fair 
herself. She and one of her friends were to 
manage the “fish pond,” while Millicent was to 
be an aid at the flower-table, and Peggy would 
assist in selling some of the fancy articles. 

Peggy left the package at the office, and 
then hailed a car, that she might not fail to 
reach the fair in time to witness its arrival. 
She looked forward to having some rare sport. 
She only wished she could take some one into 
her confidence, for it is always so much more 
fun to laugh with a comrade than to laugh 
alone. However, a laugh is valuable at any 
time. 

So thought Miss Peggy as she made her 
way along Thirty-seventh street in her new 
spring hat and gown, her eyes dancing with 
anticipation. 

The poem on Cousin Appolina had been 

[ 48 ] 



u Peggy managed to be near the door 





MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


tucked into the box along with the rest, but 
very much underneath. In that way Peggy 
felt confident that' it would escape observation 
at the fair, and yet be among the poems to give 
Millicent a shock when they came back. 

“For of course no one is going to buy those 
silly things,” said Peggy to herself; “and I 
hope it will be a good lesson to Milly. Such 
conceit as hers in regard to that poetry I never 
saw, and it ought to be taken down.” 

She found the rooms in a state of disorder. 
Various fashionable dames who had the fair 
in charge were running about in a vain attempt 
to bring some degree of order out of the con- 
fusion, and Peggy’s coming was hailed with 
delight. 

“Oh, Peggy Reid ! Just the person I want. 
Peggy, dear, do hold the end of this scarf while 
I fasten it here.” 

“Peggy, just see if you can find the tack- 
hammer.” 

“Peggy, you have just come, and can see 

[ 51 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


things with a fresh eye. Tell me the effect of 
this drapery.” 

But notwithstanding all these calls upon 
her, Peggy managed to be conveniently near 
the door when a messenger boy appeared, 
bearing a box addressed in a printed hand to 
Mrs. Pearson, who had charge of the fair. 
Peggy took the box, dismissed the boy hastily, 
and carried it to Mrs. Pearson. 

‘‘Something else! Oh, do open it, Peggy! 
I am so busy,” exclaimed that lady, precisely 
as Peggy had hoped she would do. She opened 
the box — that which she herself had so care- 
fully tied up not long before. 

On the top lay a typewritten card which 
read: “Sent by one of the congregation, who 
hopes that they may bring twenty-five cents 
apiece.” Beneath were a number of little 
booklets. 

“Why, Mrs. Pearson, do look! Somebody 
has sent some poems to sell,” cried Peggy, in 
tones of great surprise. “A member of the 

[ 52 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


congregation, and they are signed ‘Pearl Proc- 
tor !’ Who in the world can it be 

Several people gathered about. 

'‘How very funny! One of the congrega- 
tion? Who do you suppose it is? I wish I 
had time to read them,” said Mrs. Pearson. 
“They are certainly a novelty at a fair. 
Twenty-five cents she values them at? The 
lady is modest. But take care, girls,” she 
added, in a warning whisper, approaching two 
young women who were laughing immoder- 
ately over one of Pearl Proctor’s productions, 
“you must be careful. No one knows who 
wrote them, and the person may be in the 
room watching us at this very minute. It will 
never do to hurt her feelings.” 

“Oh, but, Mrs. Pearson, if you could only 
read this ! It is the funniest thing I ever read, 
and the best part of it is, it is n’t meant to be at 
all.” 

“Never mind, don’t laugh, I beg of you. 
How did they get here, Peggy?” 

[ 53 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


‘‘A messenger boy brought them,” returned 
Peggy promptly, feeling very glad that Milli- 
cent was not there to see the effect they pro- 
duced. She was almost sorry that she had 
urged her to send them. After all it seemed 
a shame to make fun of the poor dear. 

“Well, do be careful, girls,” said Mrs. Pear- 
son, as she moved away. 

An hour or so later Millicent herself walked 
into the rooms. She looked very lovely, for 
her beautiful golden hair had twisted into lit- 
tle curls and waves, the morning being some- 
what damp, and there was an unusual sparkle 
in her dreamy blue eyes. It was very excit- 
ing to have one’s poems actually for sale. 

The first thing that met her gaze was a large 
sign placed above a small table. Upon the 
table lay the array of booklets, while the sign 
read thus : 

A NOVELTY! 

POEMS BY PEARL PROCTOR, 

A Member of the Congregation. 

Twenty-five Cents Each. 

She did not have sufficient courage to walk 

[ 54 ] 



« ‘ Well, do be careful, girls ’ ” 









MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


boldly up with the air of a stranger and in- 
spect the wares thus offered for sale, so she 
turned aside and began to talk to some of her 
friends, asking what she could do to help. 

“My dear,” said Elsie Pearson, flying up to 
her, and speaking in a whisper, “I am so glad 
you have come ! I must tell you the greatest 
joke in the world. Somebody has sent a lot of 
poems to the fair to sell! Did you ever hear 
of anything so delicious? Mamma says we 
ought not to laugh, for the person who wrote 
them may be in the room, but it is too awfully 
funny not to laugh the least bit, and I know 
you are safe.” 

Millicent smiled stiffly. “Are they funny 
poems?” she asked. “You seem to find them 
amusing.” 

Elsie would have noticed her tone if she had 
not been so excited and in such haste. 

“They are not meant to be,” she said aloud, 
as she moved away. “That is the best part of 
the whole thing.” 


[ 57 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


Millicent, left alone, felt as if she could cry 
with pleasure. How perfectly outrageous it 
was in that odious Elsie Pearson to talk in 
such a way ! The only comfort was that Elsie 
was anything but intellectual, and would not 
know good poetry when she saw it. She 
would probably fail to see any beauty in Ten- 
nyson. 

Peggy had watched this conference from 
across the room, and she now came quickly 
over to her cousin. “Look out. Mill,” she said 
in a low tone, “you will have to be awfully 
careful that no one catches on. If I were you 
I would n’t stay so near the poetry table.” 

Peggy, already deeply regretting her joke, 
wished to spare her cousin as much as possible. 
But her good intentions were frustrated by 
Mrs. Pearson. 

“Millicent,” said that lady, “we have had 
some new wares sent in; something I never 
saw before at a fair. Poems, my dear. Just 
think of it; and by a member of the congre- 

[ 58 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


gation! We can’t imagine who wrote them, 
and of course they are perfect trash” (this in a 



“ * Look out, Mill,’ she said in a low tone ” 


low voice), “but we will have to do our best to 
sell them, so I want you to take charge of that 
table. You won’t mind changing, I know. 
[ 59 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


And try not to let the people laugh at the 
poems. They are absurd, I know, judging 
from one I picked up. It was about a moth or 
an ant or something. I am not sure that it 
was not a Croton bug,” and with a laugh at 
her own wit Mrs. Pearson led Millicent to the 
poetry table, and established her behind it. 


160 ] 


A DAME OF HIGH DEGREE 





MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


CHAPTER IV 

A DAME OF HIGH DEGREE 

I T was now twelve o’clock, the hour at 
which the fair was to be opened to the 
public. 

Two or three hours later the sale was 
in full swing. A great many people came, for 
it was in every respect a fashionable function, 
and it was considered quite the thing to be 
seen there. People bought quite largely also 
of every variety of article — except poetry. 
That seemed to go a-begging. 

There was always a crowd about the table, 
but no one felt inclined to purchase. The lit- 
tle booklets were picked up, read, dropped 
again with laughter and comments, until Mil- 
licent felt that she would gladly sink through 
the floor. 

Even her own mother came, criticised, and 

[ 63 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


moved on, with a whispered question to Milli- 
cent as to what member of the congregation 
could have been so conceited and so senseless 
as to do such a thing as this. 

Millicent’s head ached, and tears filled her 
eyes, and she thought the climax had been 
reached when Elsie Pearson, picking one up 
at random, said, laughingly: 

“Just listen to this, Milly ! It is the gem of 
the whole collection. I can’t help it if the 
‘member of the congregation’ does see me. 
She deserves to be made fun of.” And Elsie in 
a whisper read the following: 

“TO THE MARCH WIND. 

“Loud and shrill, loud and shrill. 

List to the wild March wind ! 

And the heart of the mariner trembles 
As he sails his rudder behind.” 

“My dear, the ‘member’ is a little mixed! 
Does she mean the mariner sails behind the 
rudder, or the rudder sails behind the mari- 
[ 64 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


ner? Did you ever, Millicent? I don’t believe 
she knows which part of a ship the rudder is. 
And this is the second verse: 

“ ‘And the bell on the bleak beach bellows, 

(There ’s alliteration for you. Fancy a bell 
bellowing!) 

And the fog-horn lifts its voice. 

And the mariner goes to an early grave. 
He has no other choice.’ 

“Oh, Milly! is n’t it funny! Why don’t you 
laugh?” 

“I am laughing,” said Millicent in a hoarse 
voice ; “it makes me perfectly hysterical,” and 
she hid her face for a moment in her handker- 
chief. Fortunately Elsie was at that moment 
called away. 

Millicent found to her cost, as the afternoon 
wore on, that the climax had not been reached 
even then. 

Joanna had come late to the fair, detained by 

5 — Miss AppoUna^s Choice [ 65 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


school and luncheon until four o’clock. She 
had found no one at home, not even her 
mother, but she had heard from the maid a 
piece of news which caused her heart to bound 
with excitement and consternation. 

Cousin Appolina had returned very unex- 
pectedly from Washington. 

Joanna decided that she must tell Millicent 
as soon as she reached the fair, so that the slip- 
pers might be removed at once. It would be 
better to be on the safe side, although it was 
extremely improbable that Cousin Appolina 
would visit the fair the first day of her return. 

But just as Joanna came out of the front 
door Miss Briggs herself drove up in her car- 
riage and learning that no one was at home 
in either of her relatives’ houses, but that all 
had gone to the fair, concluded to betake her- 
self there also, and forthwith invited Joanna to 
get in and drive with her to Sherry’s. 

Joanna, nothing loath, accepted the invita- 
tion, feeling rather glad on the whole that her 
[ 66 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


cousin had returned in time, for she would be 
sure to spend her money freely, and Joan was 
greatly interested in the success of the sale. 
And, alas! she forgot all about the worsted 
slippers ! 

They presented their tickets, and entered 
the room just as Millicent had buried her face 
in her handkerchief upon hearing the remarks 
of Elsie Pearson. When she emerged there- 
from the first thing -that met her astonished 
gaze was the tall and never-to-be-forgotten 
form of Cousin Appolina Briggs, and her heart 
sank with apprehension. For a moment the 
works of her unappreciated genius were for- 
gotten. Her one thought was “slippers!’’ 

“Oh, that I had never sent those horrible 
slippers !” she said to herself despairingly. “It 
will be just my luck to have her see them, and 
would serve me right, too, for having given 
away a present. Yes, she is going that way! 
Oh, if I could only make Peggy or Joan come 
here ! They could go and buy the slippers be- 
fore she gets there.” 


[ 67 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


But Peggy and Joan were not forthcoming. 
The latter, full of business, had lost no time in 
retiring behind the screen which formed the 
‘‘fish-pond,” and was already baiting the hook 
with ardor and queerly shaped packages, and 
Peggy had not yet seen her cousin, and sup- 
posed her to be safe in Washington. 

But Miss Briggs was not one to remain long 
unnoticed. She was of commanding height 
and noble breadth. When she entered a room 
the rest of humanity seemed to grow smaller 
by comparison. Her voice was deep and had 
a penetrating quality which caused it to be 
heard at an unusual distance, and the gold 
lorgnette, without which she was never seen, 
and which she was in the habit of raising con- 
stantly to her short-sighted and somewhat 
prominent eyes, flashed and glittered in the 
light. 

Truly Miss Appolina’s was a presence calcu- 
lated to make itself felt. And Peggy felt it, 
and she heard the voice, and a tremor that 
[ 68 ] 



'* The first thing that met her gaze ” 




MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


seemed like fear filled her naturally courageous 
heart. She looked at Cousin Appolina, and 
she looked at the poetry table. There was yet 
time. Leaving abruptly a customer who was 
on the verge of making an important purchase, 
who only needed a word of advice from Miss 
Peggy Reid as to which was the prettier, a 
centre-piece embroidered in yellow or a table- 
cloth done in greens, she flew to the side of 
Millicent. 

‘‘The poems!” she gasped. “Have any of 
them been sold?” 

“Not one,” said Millicent; “but oh, Peggy; 
there is Cousin Appolina!” 

“I know,” returned Peggy breathlessly, as 
she turned over the booklets, “I know ! That ’s 
just it!” 

“But the slippers, Peggy ! Go and get them. 
I don’t dare.” 

“The slippers! They are nothing to the 
poetry. Oh, where is it?” 

And she tossed the poems hither and thither, 
looking first into one, then into another. 

[ 71 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“Oh, where is it?” 

“What do you mean, Peggy? Don’t waste 
time over the poetry. Do please go and buy 
those slippers! Give any price. There, she 
is getting to that table now! It is too late!” 

There was a lull in the noise at that mo- 
ment, and Miss Briggs’s clear deep tones could 
be distinctly heard by the two culprits. 

“I want a pair of knit slippers. I make a 
great many myself, but I never seem to have 
any for my own use. How much are these 
red and gray ones ? A dollar and a half ? Give 
them to me, please, and never mind about the 
change. I have not examined them thor- 
oughly, but if they do not suit me I will give 
them away.” 

It was too late. She had bought her own 
slippers. Millicent hoped that the gold lorg- 
nette would be smashed to atoms before the 
lady reached her home; that her spectacles 
would lose themselves; even that the world 
would come to an end before Miss Appolina 

[ 72 ] 


MISS APPOLINA’S CHOICE 


found an opportunity to examine those red and 
gray worsted slippers. That she would recog- 



nize them Millicent felt no doubt, for they 
were knit in a fashion peculiar to herself, the 
two colors forming a little plaid. 

[ 73 ] 



MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


Meanwhile Peggy had tossed about the 
poems with no result. She had only succeeded 
in bringing to the top those that had hitherto 
lain in safe insignificance at the bottom. 

Now she stood by the table as if turned into 
stone, and awaited the approach of an aveng- 
ing fate. The day of practical jokes was over 
for her. 

She knew, she felt absolutely confident, that 
just as surely as Cousin Appolina had chosen 
the slippers of her own make, just so surely 
would she pounce upon the poem that Peggy 
had written about her. 

Miss Briggs drew near. 

“Well, girls!” she said, in her great deep 
voice, the gold lorgnette raised to her eyes, 
“well, girls, you did not expect to see me back 
so soon, did you? Washington became insup- 
portable. Too many odious-looking people. I 
could not endure it. What have we here?” 
staring at the sign. “ ‘Poems by Pearl Proc- 
tor, a member of the congregation.’ And who 
[ 74 ] 


i 



“ ‘ Well, girls, what have we here ? ’ ” 







MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


may she be? Proctor — Proctor? I don’t re- 
member the name in New York. Proctor is a 
Boston name. Who is it, Millicent?” 

Millicent trembled. 

‘'I — I — ” she faltered. 

“You!” thundered her cousin. “Never! 
What do you mean?” 

“Milly did n’t mean to say that,” interposed 
Peggy. “She was probably going to say she 
could n’t tell who it is. It is an assumed name, 
we suppose. Cousin Appolina.” 

“Is not Millicent capable of speaking for 
herself?” inquired Miss Briggs, severely. 
“Since when did she lose the power of speech?” 

The girls shook in their shoes and held their 
peace. 

“What are these things?” continued this ter- 
rible person, picking up the poems disdainfully, 
and again putting her lorgnette to her eyes. 
“ ‘Ode to a Firefly,’ ‘Sonnet on the Caterpillar,’ 
‘Some Lines to a Beggar Child.’ Faugh! 
Who is the fool that is guilty of all this? 
But — but — what have we here?” 

[ 77 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


It had come, then! For this is what Miss 
Appolina read, but not aloud: 

“Who is a dame of high degree? 

Who ’s always scolded little me? 

Who is a sight strange for to see? 

Miss Appolina B. 

“Who cannot with her friends agree? 

Who loves to feed on cakes and tea ? 

Who prides herself on her pedigree? 

Miss Appolina B. 

“Who ’ll soon set sail across the sea? 

Who will not take her cousins three ? 

Who is an ancient, awful she? 

Miss Appolina B.” 

Miss Briggs looked from one to the other 
of the girls. The hum of the fair went on. 

“I will buy all of these poems,” she said in a 
voice which filled their souls with terror; 
“count them, and tell me the amount. And I 
wish to see you both to-morrow morning at 
ten o’clock.” 

Wondering, Millicent obeyed. 

Peggy turned and fled. 

[ 78 ] 


THE IMPERTINENCE OF IT 




MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


CHAPTER V 

THE IMPERTINENCE OF IT 

T he next morning at ten o’clock two 
frightened and trembling maidens 
presented themselves at the door of 
Miss Briggs’s house on Madison ave- 
nue. It was all out of order, to be sure, for 
them to be calling at such an hour, for it was 
the time appointed for their lessons, and yes- 
terday had been a holiday also on account of 
the fair; but Miss Briggs’s word was to a cer- 
tain extent law in the family, and governesses 
and masters were asked to defer their coming. 

The mothers of Millicent and Peggy had 
little idea as to why their cousin wished to see 
them, for neither girl dared to confess her 
atrocious deed. In fact, Millicent herself did 
not know of Peggy’s poem. Peggy was put- 

6 — Miss Appolina^s Choice [81] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


ting off the evil moment as long as possible, 
when she should be forced to give an account 
of what she had done. 

She was really very much ashamed of her- 
self. She had lain awake half the night think- 
ing of what a rude, unladylike, childish trick 
she had been guilty. 

‘‘From first to last it has been silly,” she 
groaned. “It was perfectly hateful of me to 
make Milly send her poetry and turn her into 
a laughing-stock, even though no one knows 
it was she who wrote them, and it was ridicu- 
lous for me to put that one in about Cousin 
Appolina. And it was n’t funny, either. I 
might have made a better one while I was 
about it. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! I wish I had n’t 
been born a joker! I ’ll never get to England 
now, not for years and years, for papa de- 
clares he won’t take me himself until I have 
finished school. And when he hears about 
this, for of course Cousin Appolina will tell 
the whole family, what will he say! Oh, oh! 
Unfortunate wretch that I am!” 

[ 82 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


Thus Peggy. Millicent, in the meantime, 
across the street, was in a no less unhappy 
frame of mind. 



“What can it be?’’ said she to herself. 
“Cousin Appolina could not have found out 
[ 83 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


then about the slippers, for she seemed to be 
in a very pleasant mood when she came to the 
poetry-table. What in the world made her 
buy all the poems ? She must have come upon 
one that she liked, or one that she did n’t like, 
that made her buy them all. Probably that 
she did n’t like, but which one, I wonder?” 

But as I have said, they rang Miss Briggs’s 
door-bell, punctual to the moment. James, 
the melancholy footman, seemed even more 
solemn than usual as he ushered them up the 
stairs to the door of Miss Briggs’s library. 

“Miss Reid and Miss Margaret Reid,” he 
announced, in a sepulchral voice, and with- 
drew, leaving them to their fate. 

Miss Briggs sat at her desk writing. She 
gave the girls a cold good-morning, and mo- 
tioned them to be seated. She continued to 
write, and her quill pen travelled briskly across 
the page, scratching loudly. Millicent’s heart 
sank. The slippers were placed in reproach- 
ful prominence upon the top of the desk. The 
poems were not to be seen. 

[ 84 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


After some minutes’ silence, broken only 
by a deep-drawn sigh from Milly, a warning 
cough from Peggy, and the scratching of the 
quill. Miss Briggs turned in her chair and 
faced them. She removed the spectacles which 
she had worn when writing, and raised her 
lorgnette. The girls thought that no stern 
judge in the days of witchcraft could have ap- 
peared more formidable. She scrutinized them 
piercingly, coldly, judicially. Then she spoke. 

‘T have asked you to come to me, young 
ladies, that some small matters may be cleared 
up. Who wrote that poetry?” It was not the 
slippers entirely, then. It was ‘‘To a Pearl in 
an Oyster-shell and Peggy would go to Eng- 
land. Millicent’s eyes were on the ground, 
the color came and went in her cheeks, her 
head drooped. 

“I did,” she faltered. 

‘‘Just as I thought. No one but you, you 
silly scrap of sentiment, would be guilty of 
writing such trash. It is now consigned to its 

[ 85 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


proper destination and she pointed to a large 
scrap-basket which the girls had not before 
noticed, and which was filled to overflowing 
with the ill-fated booklets. “I have looked 
through them all, and find nothing but harm- 
less trash, with one exception. As you may 
suppose, it is this one;” and from under some 
papers on her desk she drew another. 

“I suppose it is the sonnet to ‘A Pearl in an 
Oyster-shell,’ ” gasped Millicent. “I am sorry. 
Cousin Appolina, that it went in. I — ” 

‘‘Pearl in an oyster-shell! Nonsense! What 
do I care about pearls in oyster-shells? Do 
not try any of those evasions with me; they 
are of no use. I am shocked, pained, aston- 
ished that one of my own kith and kin, the 
daughter of my Cousin Van Aspinwall Reid, 
should have been guilty of such — such — well, 
words fail me! — such gross impertinence!” 

Millicent forgot her misery, and stared at 
Miss Briggs in astonishment. “I don’t know 
what you mean. Cousin Appolina, unless it is 
the slippers.” 


[ 86 ] 


MISS APPOLINA’S CHOICE 




“ Overflowing with the ill-fated booklets ” 

‘‘Slippers! Yes, you may well allude to the 
slippers, but the next time you send my gifts 
to be sold pray be more careful. I drew one of 
[ 87 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


them on my foot this morning and felt the 
crunch of paper in the toe. I examined the pa- 
per, and found it to be this.” 

Miss Appolina rose and held a small white 
card toward Millicent. This is what was writ- 
ten upon it : 

‘‘ ‘For Millicent, with love and good wishes 
for a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, 
from her cousin, Appolina Briggs.* 

‘T notice that the check which I sent with 
the slippers was carefully removed. That did 
not go to the fair,” added Miss Briggs, grimly, 
as she again seated herself. 

Millicent burst into tears. All this time 
Peggy’s mind was busy. A terrible tempta- 
tion stared her in the face. No one seemed to 
suspect her of having written the lines about 
her cousin ; if she did not confess it, who would 
know it? 

After all, it would do no further harm to Mil- 
licent’s prospects if Cousin Appolina con- 
tinued to think that she wrote them, for she 
[ 88 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


would not be chosen to go to England now 
under any circumstances on account of the 
slippers. 

Should Peggy remain quiet and let it pass? 
Not a^ creature but herself knew what she had 
done, and it would be easy enough to continue 
to hide it. 



“Cousin Appolina,” said Millicent, finding 
her voice at last, “I am sorry! You see, I 
had n’t worn the slippers, for the ones you gave 
me before are still as good as new, and I had 
nothing to send to the fair, for I don’t do any 
[ 89 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


fancy work, and I thought — perhaps — you 
would n’t mind. I did n’t notice the paper.” 

“Evidently not; but what if the shoes had 
fallen into other hands than mine? What if — 
But all this amounts to nothing compared with 
your positive outrageousness in writing those 
lines about me and sending them to be sold.” 

“Cousin Appolina, what do you mean?” cried 
Millicent. “I did n’t mean you.” 

“Mean me?” repeated Miss Briggs, in 
wrath. “To whom, then, were you referring? 
Is there another Miss Appolina B.?” 

“I can’t imagine what you are talking about, 
honestly. Cousin Appolina, but I really did not 
mean that you were the pearl in the oyster- 
shell. I wrote it about some one else.” 

“Pearl in the oyster-shell! Do not dare to 
mention that pearl or that oyster-shell again. 
I am tired of hearing of them both. And do 
not pretend that you do not understand me, 
Millicent. You are not so stupid as all that, 
though I must say you were extraordinarily 
[ 90 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


dull of comprehension when you sent those 
verses to the fair, and it was astonishingly like 
you to do it, too. No, this is what I am refer- 
ring to. Now, what have you to say for your- 
self?” 

She thrust the unlucky booklet at her 
cousin, and began to walk the floor. 

Millicent read the verses : 

‘‘Who is a dame of high degree? 

Who ’s always scolded little me? 

Who is a sight strange for to see? 

Miss Appolina B. 

“Who cannot with her friends agree? 

Who loves to feed on cakes and tea? 

Who prides herself on her pedigree? 

Miss Appolina B. 

“Who ’ll soon set sail across the sea? 

Who will not take her cousins three? 

Who is an ancient, awful she? 

Miss Appolina B.” 

“Who else would have written that about 
[ 91 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


the ‘cousins three?’ ” thundered Miss Briggs, 
as she walked. “And, besides, you have al- 
ready confessed that you are the author of the 
rhymes. What more is needed? As for my 
pedigree, is there a better one in all New 
York? I may be ancient and I may be awful, 
but at least I am aristocratic. Cakes and tea 
forsooth ! You have had the last cakes and tea 
you will ever have in my house. Margaret — 
I have decided that you shall be the one to go 
abroad with me. I have made up my mind to 
that, now that Millicent has confessed that she 
wrote the poetry. Yesterday I was in doubt 
as to which one of you had written it, so I re- 
quested you both to come to me, but in the 
meantime I have read the other poems, and 
even before Millicent acknowledged it, I knew 
that they had emanated from no pen but her’s ! 
No one else could have been capable of such 
trash. We will sail, Margaret, on the ist of 
June.” 

Still Peggy held her peace. She would wait 

[ 92 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


and see what Millicent said. Millicent, too, 
was silent. At first her astonishment upon 
reading the verses deprived her of the power 
of speech. Who in the world could have writ- 
ten them, and how did they get among her 
poems at the fair? She felt stupefied; but 
slowly a glimmering of the truth dawned upon 
her. 

She knew that the author of the lines was 
either her sister or her cousin. 

It did not seem like Joan to do it, and yet 
it was not possible that it could have been 
Peggy or she would boldly confess it now. It 
must be Joanna. Whichever it was, Millicent 
would not speak. The innocent had suffered 
for the guilty before this. There was no 
chance whatever of her being chosen for Eng- 
land on account of the slippers, therefore she 
would not spoil the prospects of the others. 
She could suffer for two offences as easily as 
for one. 

She rose, placed the verses upon Miss 
Briggs’s desk, and stood before her relative. 

[ 93 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“I am very sorry,” she said; “I did not 
know those verses were there. I — I — apolo- 
gize with all my heart. May I go now?” 

‘‘Yes, you may go, and do not come to the 
house again until you at least appear to be 
more ashamed of your conduct. You are ab- 
solutely unrepentant, I see. Go! Margaret, 
my dear, I should be glad to have you stay and 
talk over our trip.” 

Millicent left the house feeling as if she were 
walking in a dream. What could it all mean? 
Of course it was Joan. What a strange thing 
for the child to do ! And how cleverly she had 
hidden it I 

When she was told of the transaction at the 
fair, of how Cousin Appolina had bought all 
the poems, she had only laughed and thought 
it a good joke, and was glad that Millicent’s 
poetry was appreciated. And she went off to 
school that morning as light-heartedly as pos- 
sible. Her last words had been: 

“I hope you will get through all right with 
Cousin Appolina, Milly, darling, and I hope 

[ 94 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


she has n’t found out about the slippers, and 
that you will be the one to go to England.” 

And yet it must have been Joan, for Peggy 
would certainly have confessed had it been 
she. 


[ 95 ] 



THE SILENCE OF PEGGY 


4 ^ ^ «* r^ ^ 

- ' 

>' ■' 


• ■ 4 



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• 4 


S. 





MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


CHAPTER VI 

THE SILENCE OF PEGGY 

M ILLICENT walked slowly home- 
ward. The French teacher was 
awaiting her, and her singing mas- 
ter was to come directly afterward, 
but her lessons did not receive very close at- 
tention that day. 

In the meantime Peggy was left with her 
cousin. 

‘T am astonished at Millicent,” said Miss 
Briggs, as the door closed. ‘T always sus- 
pected that she was silly, but I never supposed 
she could be impertinent. I shall not mention 
it in the family, Margaret, and I shall be 
obliged to you if you will not either. I would 
not for the world have either her father or 
yours know what — what she has said about 

tor c. 

[ 99 ] 


me. 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


Still Peggy was strangely silent. She was 
glad that it was not to be told. She had less 
compunction about not confessing if the family 
were not to know it. Now they would merely 
think it a whim of Cousin Appolina’s that she 
was the one chosen for the voyage. 

She did not enter with great heartiness into 
the plans for the summer, and Miss Briggs 
soon dismissed her. 

‘‘But come in again at five o’clock and have 
some ‘cakes and tea,’ ” she said, with great 
meaning. “My poor cakes and tea! Oh, it 
was outrageous! I shall never pardon Milli- 
cent.” 

So Peggy went home, or rather to her 
uncle’s house, for the girls shared the school- 
room there. After lessons were over, and 
they were left alone together, Peggy broke the 
silence. 

“Did you write those lines to Cousin Appo- 
lina. Mill?” 

“No; of course not, Peggy. It must have 
been Joan.” 


[ 100 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


“Do you really think so?” 

“Yes; and I feel dreadfully about it. Not 
so much because I will lose the trip, but be- 
cause she has been so deceitful. I can’t under- 
stand it. To think, too, of your being the one 
to go, after all.” 

“But why did n’t you tell Cousin Appolina 
that you did n’t write it?” 

“It was n’t worth while. I knew it must 
have been either you or Joan, and I thought 
if you did it you would say so. If Joan did it — 
well, Peggy, I did n’t want to. I feel dread- 
fully about Joan’s having done it. I shall talk 
to the child, and — But I can’t bear to think 
she did it, and I would rather have Cousin Ap- 
polina think it was I than little Joan.” 

“You are very generous,” said Peggy. 

“No, I am not. I should n’t be the one to 
go, anyhow. Of course the whole thing is 
terribly dishonorable, but I must save Joan.” 

Peggy said nothing for a long time. Then 
she asked, ''What time does Joan get home 
to-day?” 


[ 101 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“Not until late, for she is going to lunch 
with one of the girls, and then to the Dog 
Show with herP 

“Well, I must go home. I ’ll see you again 
before the day is over.” And Peggy departed 
to her own house. “What a good girl Milli- 
cent is,” she thought. “I have laughed at her 
and made endless fun of her for her poetry- 
making, I have thought she was stupid over 
her lessons, and not half as bright or as much 
to be admired as myself, and here she is ten 
times more generous, ten times more honor- 
able, ten times better than I am in every way. 
I am a wretch, a conceited, deceitful, mean, 
stuck-up, and everything else that is horrible 
wretch. But I don’t want to give up and tell 
Cousin Appolina that I did it.” 

At twenty minutes of five that afternoon 
Peggy again appeared in Millicent’s room. An 
odor of smoke filled the air, and Milly seemed 
to be wrestling with the tongs and some burn- 
ing paper at the fireplace. 

[ 102 ] 


MISS APPOLINA’S CHOICE 


“What are you doing?” asked Peggy, much 
surprised. “Building a fire this warm day?” 

“I — I — ^am burning my — my poetry,” re- 
plied Millicent, struggling with her tears as 
well as with the tongs. “I am never going to 
write another line. Everyone laughed so that 
I don’t believe there is much real poetry in it, 
and I am never, never going to vrrite again. 
What a horrid smell that m-morocco c-cover 
makes !” 

Peggy would have laughed had she been in 
a happier frame of mind. As it was, she said, 
solemnly: “Open the window and leave the 
room to air off. Mill. I want you to come out 
with me. I am going to Cousin Appolina’s.” 

“But I can’t go there, Peggy. You know 
she told me not to come again.” 

“You must, Milly. You really must. I 
will be responsible for it. I can’t go alone. 
Y ou must go with me.” 

Finally Millicent put on her hat, and for the 
second time that day the two set forth for their 
cousin’s house. 


[ 103 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


Miss Briggs was in her drawing-room. The 
tea tray had just been placed before her, the 
celebrated cakes reposed in the old silver cake 
basket conveniently at hand, the man had left 
the room, when again the Misses Reid were 
announced. 

Miss Briggs looked up and raised her lorg- 
nette. 

‘‘You have made a mistake,” she said. ‘T 
am not at home to Millicent.” 

“Yes, you are, Cousin Appolina!” cried 
Peggy, rushing forward and causing a bronze 
Hermes to totter as she brushed past it, “yes, 
you are more at home to Milly than you are to 
me. For she did n’t write them. Cousin Appo- 
lina. She did n’t write the lines about you. I 
have brought her with me to hear me confess. 
She is as innocent as — as that piece of statu- 
ary. I wrote the verses. I did !” 

For a moment there was an alarming si- 
lence, but Peggy, having once begun her con- 
fession, courageously continued. 

[ 104 ] 



“ ‘ 1 did it to frighten Milly ’ ” 


K 


« 

A 







MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


“I did it to frighten Milly. I put it in the 
box, but Vay underneath, for her to see when 
the poems came home. I thought it would be 
such fun to watch her when she read it, and 
found it had been to the fair with the others. 
Of course it was just my luck to have you find 
it, but it was a silly, foolish thing to do, just as 
it was perfectly horrid of me to make Milly 
send her own verses to the fair. That was my 
fault, too. I urged her to do it just to get some 
fun out of it, and I did n’t get a bit. 

‘‘Then this morning, when you thought 
Milly had written them all, and she did n’t say 
anything, I thought I would let it pass, for I 
wanted dreadfully to go to England, and I 
knew that her chances were over on account of 
the slippers. Well, I was firm about it for an 
hour or so, and then I found how generous 
Milly was to say nothing, and she thought 
Joan had done it, and was going to scold her, 
and — oh, well, I don’t think it pays to deceive ! 
I never was so unhappy in my life as I have 
[ 107 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


been to-day. Milly, you dear old soul, say you 
forgive me !” 

During this long speech Millicent had time 
to think the matter over. Her chief feeling 
was one of thankfulness that it was not Jo- 
anna who had done this thing. And Millicent 
had a sweet nature and never harbored anger 
very long. 

Of course it was a dreadful thing for Peggy 
to have done, but her cousin knew how dearly 
she loved a joke, and though it had been wrong 
for her to deceive Miss Briggs and herself this 
morning she had not kept it up long, and it 
was easy to see that she was sorry enough 
for it now. 

So when Peggy asked her to forgive her, 
Millicent’s answer was a warm kiss. 

“And have I nothing to forgive ?” 

It was Miss Briggs who put the question. 

“Yes, of course you have. Cousin Appolina! 
I am terribly sorry that I ever did such a thing. 
It was rude, impertinent, everything that was 
[ 108 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 



bad. I hope you will forgive me. Of course 
it is all true, but I need n’t have said it.” 
“True?” 


[ 109 ] 


MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE 


“Why, yes. You know you are a dame of 
high degree, and you have always scolded me, 
and in your winter bonnet and big fur cape you 
were — er — well, a sight rather strange for to 
see. And it is perfectly true you are soon 
going to set sail across the sea and you won’t 
take us all three, and sometimes, you know. 
Cousin Appolina, you don’t agree very well, 
especially with me. And you do love cakes and 
tea, but so do I, so that is n’t anything. And 
you say yourself you pride yourself on your 
pedigree.” 

“And no one has a better right. But there 
is one line that you have left out. You called 
me an ancient, awful she !” 

Peggy paused. 

“I know,” she said, slowly, “that was dread- 
ful, but — but it is partly true. I suppose you 
can’t truthfully call yourself very young. 
Cousin Appolina, and sometimes you can be 
very awful.” 

Another pause. 


[ 110 ] 


MISS APPOLINA^S CHOICE 


“You may both go home/* said Miss Briggs. 

And they went. 

On the I St of June Miss Appolina Briggs 
sailed for England, accompanied by her maid 
and by her young cousin, Joanna Reid. And 
Millicent and Peggy stood on the wharf and 
waved them a sad farewell. 


The End. 


[Ill] 




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